


Not to go ruining my reputation....

by ToriCeratops



Series: The Little Things [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Firsts, Fluff, M/M, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:50:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/pseuds/ToriCeratops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is pissed, and he's not letting Derek out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not to go ruining my reputation....

Everything has to have a first.  First crush, first kiss, first heartbreak, first night falling asleep in each others arms.

First fight.

Today is by far not their first fight.  Today’s first is, when Stiles looks back on it, the best first ever.

Well, the best first so far.  There are still a couple of firsts he’s still looking forward to, he has to admit.

His anger has reached a boiling point waiting for Derek to get there.  Stomach churning, every muscle in his body is racked with tension and he couldn’t sit still - not that that was anything new.

Four months of being Derek Hale’s boyfriend was officially more life altering than when his best friend had first become a werewolf.

When the breeze hits him, cold and dry on the back of his neck, Stiles knows he is done waiting and spins to face Derek.  His hands are still shaking, well aware that his boyfriend can smell his fury.  No sense trying to hide anything from that man.

“Every one else make it home okay?” 

Derek nods, taking a silent step towards Stiles.  There’s a look on his face that, if Stiles didn’t know better, he would call worry.

“Good.  How’s the cut?  Everything heal up fine?”  His words are short, curt.

In answer, Derek shrugs out of his jacket before lifting his shirt.  The flesh of his chest and stomach are just as smooth and perfect as always.

“Good.”  Stiles takes a deep breath.  “Now get out.”

Derek shakes his head in obvious surprise.  “What?  Why?”

“Why?  Why?! Why the fuck do you think?”  Something snaps in Stiles and he starts throwing his arms about, storming back and forth around his room.  “You lied to me Derek!  You didn’t just keep something from me, you flat out told me something that was not the truth.  When we started this.. this.. whatever this is,”  he gestures between the two of them, too busy pacing to see the way Derek’s face suddenly looks crushed at his words, “we agreed to be honest.  You promised not to keep things from me no matter how insignificant they were.  I don’t want to hear your stupid excuses either, about keeping me safe or being part of the plan or not thinking it would matter.  Because it does.  I know you may not agree with me on this, but I matter Derek.  I’m not some…”  his tirade is interrupted by Derek grabbing him around the waist, suddenly pressing himself dangerously close.

Stiles isn’t having it.  He pushes away.  Well, he tries to push away.  It’s kind of difficult to do when Derek’s holding on that tight.  Thinking he is going to try and kiss his way out of trouble, Stiles continues pushing, palms flat against the taller mans chest, putting all his weight into it.

“No.  No Derek.  This isn’t something you just…”

“I’m sorry.”  Derek is doing his everything he can to maintain eye contact.

“I don’t care!  You…”  Derek’s words register a heart beat later and the world around Stiles screeches to a halt.  Voice barely a whisper, body frozen, he meets Derek’s gaze once again.

“What did you say?”  He’s expecting a shrug, a denial, an ‘I’m sorry you found out’, or even ‘you heard me’.

What he doesn’t expect, is a repeat: louder and more sure this time.

“I’m sorry Stiles.  I shouldn’t have lied.  I don’t have an excuse other than I wasn’t thinking.”

Stiles releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding.  The tension in his body begins to dissipate when he lets himself relax into Derek’s hold.  “No.  No you weren’t.”  he’s not letting it go, but the venom is completely gone from his voice.

“And as far as whateverthisis,” he tightens his arm around Stiles so they are pressed flat against each other, “it is the most important thing in my life right now.”  He punctuates his words with a quick kiss.  Stiles lifts himself on his toes into the embrace, letting the warmth of Derek’s body wash over him.  The kiss sends any tension left over packing. 

Derek rests his forehead against Stiles’.  “You matter. Always.”  There’s a long pause while he takes several deep breaths.  Stiles has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t start babbling all over again.  “I care about you Stiles, and in case you didn’t hear it the first two times,” he leans forward to speak right at Stiles’ ear, “I am sorry.”

In a split second Stiles has jumped up, wrapping his arms and legs around Derek, pressing their lips together.  He’s invading his mouth, pushing his tongue in and around, fire spreading through his spine.  Derek catches him easily, snaking one hand beneath him, giving his ass a gentle squeeze.  With his other hand he strokes Stiles’ neck, eliciting a soft moan into their kiss.  He shifts around to lower them to the bed, Stiles squirming beneath him when Derek turns his attention to kissing and running his teeth along the soft flesh of Stiles’ neck. 

Stiles lifts his hips to press against Derek, his body pleading with him for more.  His pants have, in very short order, become uncomfortably tight.

“Derek,” his breath is becoming shallow, the tightening in his stomach increasing as their bodies rub together.  “Please, I want more.”

The laughter against his neck he receives just makes Stiles groan.  “You know the answer to that Stiles.”

“Oh come on, you’re trying to apologize right?”  His breath catches when a hand slides just along the bottom of his shirt.  “Do it properly!”

Stiles actually whines when Derek freezes above him.  “No.”

“No?”  Stiles lets his confusion escape all over his face.

“No Stiles.  That isn’t how I apologize.  It isn’t how you should, and you shouldn’t expect it.  I will never, ever try and get you to do what I want with sex.” His voice is harsh, but pleading.

Stiles’ confusion lasts for only a moment longer before the sincere worry in Derek’s face tugs at his heart and makes him understand.  He gives the man above him a quick kiss, followed by, “Thank you.”  Shifting mere inches, he lets Derek lay next him, trying to maintain as much contact as possible. 

They lay side by side, lips and hands exploring their favorites parts of one another until they’re content to just lay there, together.

When they’ve been still for some time, happy to just pass out for a while, Stiles can’t help but smirk.  “I still can’t believe you apologized.”

Derek’s face is buried in the crook of Stiles’ neck, his voice muffled.  “Don’t tell anyone.  I can’t have you going around ruining my reputation.”  They both share a quiet laugh. “You forgive me?”

“Yes.  Just don’t let it happen again.”  Stile’s lets his long fingers continue their trail around the lines of Derek’s arms.

Derek doesn’t answer.  He doesn’t say ‘it won’t’ because they both know that’s not true.  It will.  Derek will mess up, they will both mess up.  Derek will probably mess up more, but they’re both slowly coming to terms with that.  For now, they just rest, quiet in the comfort of holding one another close, waiting patiently for a whole words of firsts that lie ahead of them.


End file.
